The Request
by Enygmass
Summary: After a year of absence, Edward meets with an old friend for a slightly outrageous deal.


**A.N – Thank you for reading this! C.C is always appreciated. Enjoy!**

Edward could spend upwards to an hour preening over his appearance in the cheap bathroom mirror nailed to the wall. Of all the things one could see in the shabby, rundown apartment, he had to admit that he looked the best. This wasn't spoken out of ego, or spite, but rather brutal honesty. Compared to the leaky faucets and the mysterious stain above the bed that he had no interest in investigating, Edward could be the literal diamond in the rough.

To maintain this standing position as the finest in the room, he took many precautions. He paid close attention to his face, taking the necessary steps to scrub it down with the questionable tap water and moisturize it with the remnants of his fine moisturizer, before dabbing it dry. He then combed his hair, as he did once every morning and evening, and brushed his teeth immediately after. Why he followed in that specific order he couldn't say, but he had never changed it up before and has no interest in doing so. He then moved on to washing his hands thoroughly and checking over his nails. Only after all these steps were fulfilled to his terms did he allow himself to take a breath.

Tonight, was a particularly important night which held many things on the line for him. A few hours ago, he had received a call from an old friend requesting to meet in the Iceberg Lounge that evening to discuss a sort of 'proposition' regarding funds. Edward normally would have blown them off in turn for an opportunity to work on his own plans some more, but this friend was rather significant to him, so Edward thought it best to go. Especially seeing as it has been upwards to a year since they last saw each other face to face.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, glancing down at the golden watch which was firmly clasped around his wrist. Bought, not stolen. Although he was a criminal he was more than capable at buying items as well. The time read five to seven, and he needed to be at the lounge for seven thirty. He could loiter a bit longer in his sketchy bathroom or he could head out. Deciding it was best not to keep his friend waiting, as he wasn't exactly the patient type, Edward shot one more glance at himself in the mirror. He looked extremely well put together, but his eyes revealed a sense of distrust. Then with a tight grimace he flicked off the bathroom light and left the room.

The Iceberg Lounge was a pinnacle in Gotham's upper-class society. With crystal chandeliers dangling from above, live music, and an elaborate party at least once a week it drew in crowds of the rich and famous like moths to a flame. This was all much to the delight of the rather shady host, Oswald Cobblepot, who monopolized their presence to expand his ever-growing hold over Gotham. Although there were restrictions on who and who cannot enter the Iceberg Lounge, Edward waltzed in with an air of confidence while fully aware that _he_ had at least secured a seat on the inside. Glancing around the already heavily crowded room he noted a figure hunched over a table in the far corner, situated well away from anyone else.

Ah, old friend.

Edward made a beeline straight for that area but was stopped by a stout man stepping into his path with a wide smile already situated on his face.

"Ah, Mr. Nygma!" A voice laden with an accent cried in delight.

What was that old saying again? Ah yes, speak of the devil and he will come.

Oswald Cobblepot grasped Edwards hand and furiously shook it, not even requesting or offering, but rather just initiating. This was all in Oswald's nature of course.

"Mr. Cobblepot, a spending night, as always." Edward charmed. The faster he talked the faster he could get away. Oswald was always a glutton for compliments but never liked to stay in a conversation for too long.

"Please, Mr. Nygma, spare me the charm!" Oswald replied. His words said stop but the grin he wore said continue. "What brings you here tonight? Looking to indulge a bit? Or perhaps you have a date?"

"Yes, a… date, of sorts. In fact, I'm already a bit late for this said date." Edward glanced at the watch again and feigned concern. He was aware that Oswald knew he was lying, but the man had an appearance to maintain in public, and reprimanding someone of Edwards stature would not look good to his guests. So instead he just waved his hand dismissively and continued to smile.

"Of course. I hope you and your, _date_ , enjoy yourselves tonight. If you have any requests or problems, you know where I'll be." Oswald gave him one last look before sauntering off into the crowds, presumably to see if he could gather more funds for his on-the-side deals. Edward continued his path towards the far corner, avoiding men and women alike, as well as the occasional waiter. When he finally reached his destination he collapsed onto a chair with a sigh.

"You're late." A voice said in a drawled-out tone. Edward could detect the traces of annoyance in it and shot his partner a sympathetic look.

"You know Oswald, Jonathan. Always the talker." He grabbed the glass of wine set to the side and took a small sip. The fact that Jonathan had already ordered his drink didn't come to a surprise to Edward. The man could memorize small things with ease, and drinks were accountable as a small thing.

"I'm aware." He leaned back in the chair, far enough so that a small bit of light from the room illuminated his features. He was still rather gaunt looking, but the bags under his eyes seemed emphasized and his hair more stringy than usual.

"My, the year hasn't been kind to you, has it?" Edward teased, but the seriousness of his words weighed between them. Jonathan was aware that he looked like a walking mess and Edward was aware that he really shouldn't be caring.

"The years are never kind, Edward. It's something you grow use to." He took a sip from his drink and so did Edward. After a long pause, he spoke again.

"I met you here to discuss a deal that I think we could both benefit from."

"Really? I thought this was a romantic reunion, business aside." Jonathan let out a small chuckle that sounded dry and deprived of any real emotion.

"If you'd like to call it that. I would like to request a small loan from you so I may further my projects."

Right to business, par usual. When times had been better they use to entertain small talk about weather and recently read novels, but with the rise of vigilante justice, there was a sharp decline in this habit. Edward longed for it a bit. Their conversations had provided normality in an otherwise hectic life.

"How much?" He asked as he sipped his wine again. Jonathan shrugged.

"Two million." There was a sharp choking sound as Edward shot forward and hit his hand against his chest, wine dribbling from the corner of his mouth. A few other guests glanced back at the two but, after ruling the situation under control, reassumed their conversations. Jonathan handed a napkin to him.

"I'm aware that the amount I'm requesting is quite a lot but I can reassure you that it will all be put to good use." He murmured. Edward took a few deep breaths as he dabbed away the wine.

"What will it be used for, precisely?"

"I need chemicals imported from abroad as well as new equipment, a suitable place to situate myself, test subjects, rooms to store the said subjects, so forth. Equipment is pricy and importation taxes have gone up since I was put away so unfortunately my pocket change can no longer pay them off. You're a man of established wealth, hell, you bought a thousand-dollar chair because it was a question mark. I hate to ask this of you, I really do, but I'm at a dead end for development." He explained.

Edward knew for a fact that Jonathan would never ask someone for money unless he was extremely desperate. Unlike some people, he wasn't a gold digger. But his funds were his funds, legally earned or not, and he wasn't about to loan out two million without something in return.

"What do I benefit from this?" He asked. Jonathan gave him a tight-lipped smile.

"I'm glad you asked. You have full access to what I produce, a privilege I don't hand out lightly, as well as access to all resources I can provide from partnership in heists to a cut of royalties until I pay you back. I can also provide an alibi if you are ever faced with the unwanted presence that is the GCPD. I also have a nice network of henchmen and I'm not on anyone's bad side, at the moment, so you can rest assured you won't be targeted. All of this, and this lovely _date_ which is all paid for." Jonathan gestured to the two menus that were discarded on the far side of the table.

"I wouldn't say that's _quite_ a fair trade," Edward began and Jonathans smile dropped. "But I suppose I can accommodate for you given your current conditions. One more thing, though, before I transfer the money." Jonathan shifted slightly and raised his glass to his lips, narrowing his eyes slightly as he did so.

"And what is that, Edward?" He asked. Edward gave him a coy smirk and leaned back, picking up his wine glass once more.

"You buy me dinner more often."


End file.
